Cry Wolf
by Valeska Vampire Queen
Summary: Several years before Van Helsing, Anna is fourteen and the Valerious are struggling against the curse of the werewolf. It is the eve of Anna's first werewolf hunt and though her family are very protective of her, the werewolves have other ideas.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey guys, this is a short story I've been working on for a while that's set several years before Van Helsing when Anna is still growing up. I took the idea from Kevin Ryan's novelisation of the movie in which there is a scene where the village go out on a werewolf hunt but Anna is forbidden to go because she is too young; though she sneaks out anyway with almost disastrous consequences. This scene is unfortunately not in the movie.**

**In this story however, after much begging Anna is finally allowed to join the adults on the werewolf hunt, though they are still very protective of her; the werewolves however, have other ideas, and through all this Anna must prove to her family that she is no longer a child but a warrior.**

**This story is split in two as it's a little long to be posted in a single chapter. I would again like to dedicate this story to my BETA Nienna who has worked very hard editing this - hats off to you hon!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Van Helsing; the movie or the novelisation, though I have included a couple of lines from the scene in the novel; if anyone would like me to put them in italics let me know and I will do.**

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Cry Wolf Part One

"Boris please, do not take her just yet."

"You let Velkan go when he was fourteen, why not Anna?"

Anna moved stealthily closer to the banister and peered over, relishing in the way which her ability to do this had improved over the last few months. Her mother was still offering excuses, but her father's face was determined.

"With Velkan it was different, he was a man at that age but Anna, she -,"

"She is ready my love and you know it; you've known it for months - she's not a child any longer." Anna grinned in triumph; he had given his final word, and by the end of the night her mother would be proud of her, as proud as she had been last time when Velkan had returned, pale and exhausted, but jubilant after his first kill.

Satisfied that her place in the hunt was assured, Anna slipped away from the stairs and into her room to change into her riding clothes; all black to give her cover in the darkness. Once she was ready she paced the room excitedly, unable to stand still. She had been begging her father to allow her to come ever since he began teaching her how to wield a sword. Her begging had become more and more passionate in the last two years since her brother had been allowed to go. The Valerious family had been leading the werewolf hunt every full moon for four centuries, protecting the village of Vaseria from the terrible curse of the werewolf, and finally Anna would take her place among them.

A door banged downstairs and the sound of many voices floated up to her room. She ran eagerly to the landing and looked over the banister. Yes, the village men who would make up the rest of the hunt were congregated below her. Boris was still talking with his wife, although they were no longer arguing and she merely looked resigned. Anna caught the tail end of their conversation as she slipped downstairs.

"She is wilful darling, she gets that from her father," Boris commented, and Anna felt a quick burst of pride, though her conscience pricked when she noticed how her mother's face had fallen at these words. For as long as the hunting party had gone out, her mother always retired to her room, though Anna knew that she always paced the floor anxiously until they returned safely. She laid a hand on her husband's arm. "Just take care of her," she murmured, and went back upstairs.

"Come Anna, we need to get you some weapons." Her father motioned her towards the armoury. Four centuries of weaponry was housed here, from sabres and scimitars to maces and spears. Her father was leading her right to the back of the room to a cabinet that stood by itself. Anna had rarely seen this open; the weapons within were the pride of the Valerious family and her father possessed the only key, which he was now drawing from his pocket. Nestled on a bed of velvet inside were two daggers and a revolver, all made from pure silver. Though swords and ordinary bullets could injure a werewolf, nothing else the hunt had would be able to kill them.

Boris took a dagger and handed it to Anna who slipped it into her belt while he headed to the nearby sword cabinet. She felt her heart sink when he reached for a short sword.

"But Papa," she protested, "Velkan uses one of the sabres to hunt, why not me?" She would be damned if she let her brother see her with a sword meant for a child.

"Velkan is sixteen and is taller and stronger than you. He can wield a sabre with far more ease than you could," Boris replied.

Anna was ready to say that, though Velkan was taller, she was just as strong and ready for an adult's sword, but Boris' gaze hardened. Anna took the sword from him wordlessly, buckling it around her waist; a look like that from her father gave no room for argument. Boris nodded in approval and handed her some throwing stars, then sent her back to the hall while he collected his weapons.

Her eyes fell on Velkan while she waited near the armoury door, and she found herself looking him over, remembering both her parents' comments about the way he had aged. Years ago he had been her companion in their childish games, and though she would never have admitted it she had sorely missed his company when he had claimed he was too old for such pursuits. He was the taller now where they had once been of a height. His voice had deepened in recent years, his shoulders had broadened, and the boyish roundness had vanished from his cheeks and chin. Anna had seen several of the village girls staring after him, and she supposed that to some he could be considered very handsome. Her father certainly regarded him as an equal, and even sought him out to consult him about defending their village against the darkness that threatened it. To him however she was still a mere child.

Velkan looked up then, and seeing her staring beckoned her over. Before she could move however the door beside her opened and their father emerged. His belt was bristling with weapons including the critical silver revolver.

"Come my friends," he called, "it is time to leave."

The roar of voices in the room fell to a hush at his words, and the company lit their torches and began to file out of the door. Bright moonlight illuminated the village square; on most nights it was flooded with light and ringing with laughter from the tavern, tonight however it was deserted and silent, the people shut tightly in their homes until the moon set. They passed through the town as quickly as they could and headed towards the fields, beyond which lay the forest. The werewolves had always appeared from there when the moon was full, and her father had guessed that Dracula's lair lay in this direction.

When the town was left behind Velkan fell into step beside her, and Anna noted that his face - lit up by the torch he carried - was marred with irritation.

"What is it?" she asked with a confused frown; out of all the hunting-party Velkan was usually the most excited for a good hunt - her father often joked that he seemed to thrive off the danger.

"Nothing," he said shortly, "father asked me to keep an eye on you tonight."

Anna's heart sank; did her brother regard her as incapable too?

"I can take care of myself," she muttered icily.

Velkan shrugged. "Be that as it may, it is your first hunt and father wants you kept away from most of the fighting –,"

"What?" she interrupted, "But I have to fight!"

"Not tonight you don't," said Velkan firmly.

Anna folded her arms resolutely across her chest; determined not to let this lie. After all, Velkan had certainly fought on his first hunt; fought and killed too! How was she to prove herself if they would not let her fight? Her brother held up a hand in protest. "There's no need to look like that Anna, I'm as unhappy about it as you are; I won't be able to fight myself if I have to look after you -,"

"Then don't!" Anna's cry was loud enough to have her father and several other members of the hunt glance behind them, and she hastily lowered her voice. "If you want to fight Velkan do it – I don't need you to watch me like a child – I -," Anna's voice cracked, and tears of rage at the injustice of it all pricked her eyelids, though she hastily blinked them away, unwilling to let her brother see her cry. Velkan seemed to notice her state, for the next time he spoke his tone was gentler.

"Look, Anna - it isn't that I don't think you can fight, I trained with you so I've seen that you can, but father had all those plans to track Dracula's lair down, destroy him and his servants before you ever had to do what we're about to do…"

Velkan fell silent, and Anna, whose heart had leapt when he had said that he thought her capable, sank again. She could well remember her father returning from all those trips through the mountains, as well as afterwards where he had stood silent and pensive for hours on end before the painting in their hallway. His increasing dispiritedness had made Anna even more determined to help, to make him proud of her.

The company had almost come upon the fields by the time her brother spoke again.

"I've seen how dangerous it can be out here, and neither I nor father would want anything to happen to you," he finished. The light beside Anna dimmed, and looking up she noticed that Velkan, believing that he had made his point, was heading back to join her father. She sighed; would they never understand? They wanted to protect her as though she was a small child, but she was strong, and good with a sword – almost as good as her brother, but still they treated her like a baby. Well tonight they would see.

When they finally entered the fields Anna was shocked by the silence. There were none of the usual night-time sounds there; not even the chirping of the crickets. She knew there could only be one reason for that; an unnatural predator at work that was feared by all others. Anna placed a hand on the hilt of her sword and made herself recall her father's words. The werewolves had to be prevented from reaching the edge of the trees, and it was the goal of the hunting party to deter them; for a werewolf during a full moon would be so crazed for fresh meat that it would distinguish neither beast from man. The hunt would act as bait, luring the werewolves to them before they could harm anyone in the village.

A twig suddenly snapped under Anna's foot; shattering the unearthly silence. Then a great howl echoed across the clearing as though in answer; the unmistakable call of a werewolf. A chill went down Anna's spine, remembering how as a child when she had heard it she would bury her face into her mother's arms.

They continued on their way to the trees, and before long Anna heard the low hiss of two people talking in low but urgent voices. She looked up and realised that it was her father and brother who were speaking, though they were too far ahead of her for her to be able to discern what they said. She edged closer to them.

"I don't like this father – it isn't right," Velkan murmured, "Clouds like that should take hours to gather…" Anna frowned; what clouds? The night had been clear when they left. She glanced up and nearly gasped; the bright full moon was in danger of being obscured by dense cloudbanks, tinged with yellow. Snow clouds.

"If there is a snow-storm while we are in there they will be much harder for us to trace," her brother continued, "and they will have no difficulty finding us – we could be leading the hunt right into danger."

"I am aware of that, but a storm like that will mean nothing to the werewolves – they will come to the village just the same. We cannot leave it undefended." Several other members of the hunt had noticed the snow-clouds and were muttering darkly to one another. Boris sighed. "We have no choice but to continue, Velkan."

"But father –,"

"Quiet," he muttered, and nodded in front of them; they had almost reached the edge of the trees, and there could be no more talk unless absolutely necessary.

Boris halted the company before motioning them to draw their weapons, and as Anna took her dagger from its sheath she noticed several snowflakes already starting to settle on her sleeve. She brushed them away with one hand as she walked up to join her family; they were the only ones with silver weapons and so would lead the hunt in the hopes that the revolver or the throwing daggers would be able to finish a werewolf before it came close enough to attack. Two riflemen would come close behind them with another two guarding the remainder of the hunt at the rear. If they were careful enough to stay upwind of the werewolves so they did not catch their scent, they would be able to take them by surprise.

Her father glanced up at her as she joined him.

"You may lead with us until we get to that clearing, but after you will stay behind the riflemen."

"But -,"

"Do not argue," said her father firmly. Anna sighed and turned away, watching as the company's torch-bearers put out their burdens and laid them against the trees to be collected later; for on this part of the hunt it was important to be as invisible as possible. When they were ready her father drew his revolver and levelled it before him, then led them off into the trees, the remainder of the hunt following closely behind.

Anna concentrated on keeping her tread as light as she could while they trudged on; the forest was as silent as the fields had been. Snowflakes were starting to settle on the path ahead of them, but for the moment they were few, and it seemed as though it might remain so for a while; perhaps the storm would not hit until the hunt was over. As they walked, Anna found that she could not shake the feeling that she was being watched, and though she stared fiercely through the snowflakes, without the torches the darkness was so complete that she could see nothing. They were heading along one of the main forest paths that Anna knew would eventually bring them to a clearing containing the sacrificial post. Centuries ago the villagers had left animals or even humans here as tribute to the werewolves, and her family had seen how this ancient tradition could come in useful – the clearing was defensible space and where the creatures could be lured and killed quickly.

After a quarter of an hour the snowflakes were falling thicker, and a thin carpet of snow had formed on the ground that muffled any sound that they made. Anna trudged close beside her father, watching as Boris' face grew graver as time wore on and the dancing snowflakes fell harder and faster. By the time they were closing in on the clearing the air was thick with whirling flakes and the path had vanished completely under an untouched blanket of snow. Even to Anna - who knew the forest well - the landscape around her had grown almost unrecognisable, and though she knew that her father could lead them blindfold, her stomach had grown tight with apprehension.

The company was closing in on the clearing, and Anna was shuffling along as best she could beside her father, her face turned to the ground so her eyes would stay clear from snowflakes. Suddenly she was drawn to something on the path just ahead of them. The absence of any animal presence tonight had kept the fallen snow free from tracks, but a few feet in front of them the ground had been disturbed. Anna felt the knots in her stomach tighten as she peered closer; animal prints ran from one side of the trail to the other; far too large to be those of any normal wolf.

"Father!" she hissed, tugging at his sleeve. Boris turned to her and started when he ran his eye along her pointing finger. He had realised two things; the source of the prints and that they were fresh as the falling snow had not yet covered them. Whatever had made them was therefore still close by. He whirled around to face the company and gave his orders in sharp but hushed tones. They halted and moved into a defensive formation with the riflemen at the edges and the remainder of the hunt, armed with swords and knives, in the centre; for in weather such as this they could not afford to take any chances. Boris, under the guard of a rifleman, went forward to read the prints. The waiting hunt remained still and absolutely silent; for werewolves were large animals that could often be heard long before they were seen. Anna strained to listen with the rest of them; but the falling snow still muffled any noises.

After several moments of stooping close to the prints to examine them Boris rose and cocked his revolver. Anna took a step towards him, peering through the snowflakes to see if he had spied anything, and her brother's hand had just closed on her arm to draw her back when a grey shape dived from the bushes before them in a shower of snow and slammed her father into the ground. Anna stood gaping at the first werewolf she had ever seen up close, but was startled back to life when the rifleman closest to her fired. The wolf reared up; standing at its full height of seven feet and roared. Boris flew up from underneath it and drew his sword; the shot had done its work of distracting the wolf from her father, but now it swept past Anna and hurled itself at the rifleman who had fired. Instantly the rest of the hunt submerged on it, trying to subdue it with their swords and clubs, but Anna knew that these would do little more than anger it, and they were gathered too closely for her to risk throwing her dagger. She drew her sword and was about to join them when Boris' hand closed around her arm and pulled her back. She almost sighed in relief when he ran past her, if he could get close enough his shot could dispatch the wolf before it harmed any of the men, but when she glanced at his hand her hope vanished, for the silver revolver had been knocked from it when the werewolf struck.

Velkan must have seen the understanding flicker in her eyes, for he shoved her towards the spot where it had first appeared.

"Find it Anna; for God's sake find it!"

She turned her back on the chaos behind her and ran; praying that the gun had not yet been covered by the falling flakes. She peered around the spot and found nothing, then dashed to the edge of the path and began to scrabble through the snow Boris' struggle had disturbed. Shots rang out behind her immediately followed by roars from the werewolf, but she ignored them and continued to search. When she could find nothing she risked a quick glance behind her; most of the hunt were gathered closely around the wolf, but several were already down and lying in the snow at its feet. As she watched the wolf gave one swipe of its great claws and effortlessly tossed a swordsman across the path to where she knelt, and a crimson stain spread slowly through the snow where he had fallen. Anna gulped and drawing her sword she hacked at the undergrowth at the side of the path until she had a way through; perhaps the revolver had been knocked away from the path.

Anna shoved bushes and branches aside and peered under them, searching desperately, and drew a deep breath when she saw a flash of silver. She groped frantically in the snow for a moment and emerged triumphant with her father's revolver. Praying that its priming had not become too waterlogged for it to fire she whirled around to dash back through the bushes, but before she could run something struck her on the side of the head, and she knew no more.

.:I:.

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**Sorry to leave it there guys, but Part Two will be up next week. Please read and review, as I really like to recieve feedback on my work, especially concrit.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Ok here's Part Two guys; hope you enjoy it! Influences for this part are Sorceress by Celia Rees, Dracula's Guest by Bram Stoker and of course Van Helsing. I would thoroughly recommend both the novels mentioned to anyone reading this as they are all highly enjoyable reads. Thank you again to Nienna, my long-suffering BETA. **

**Disclaimer: Once again I do not own Van Helsing, the movie or the novelisation; neither do I own Sorceress or Dracula's Guest. If anyone would like me to clearly mark which lines are taken from those works please let me know.**

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Anna could sense movement. A clawed hand had closed tightly around her booted foot and was dragging her through something soft and wet. She tried to open her eyes but her vision was so blurred she had to close them again. When she gathered her strength together to drag her foot free she found she could barely move and had to remain still in its grasp. After several minutes of being dragged through the snow whatever was holding her released her foot and left her lying on her back. Her head ached violently, but when she opened her eyes again she could see the sky above her clearly; and the moon hung far lower in it than it had before. She must have been unconscious for some time then; the snow had ceased to fall. Anna took a few deep breaths and struggled up onto her elbows. She found herself in a clearing that she recognised as being miles from where she had been struck.

There were a few bushes beside her whose shoots were at a convenient height, and grasping a couple firmly between her fingers Anna was able to pull herself to her feet. Her legs were weak and shaking. A low growl echoed across the clearing, and she jumped with fright. A werewolf was standing a few feet from her; staring at her with great yellow eyes. Like the one that had attacked the hunt, it stood on its hind legs and had a body muscled in the way that a human's was, but its hands were clawed and its face was a wolf's with a protruding snout, pointed ears and long sharp teeth. This wolf had black fur though, unlike the grey of the first. It must have dragged her away while the hunt was occupied fighting the other so it could kill her and eat her in safety.

It gave another growl and crouched; Anna realised that it was about to charge at her. Her hand instinctively reached for her dagger, but the wolf was too far away for her to be able to use it. She fumbled instead for her throwing stars; if she could wound it with these she might be able to get close enough to finish it with the dagger without risking being bitten. She grabbed the stars in one hand, ready to pass them into the other and throw them as the werewolf bounded across the clearing towards her. She let one star fly, but the wolf batted it aside it and swiped at her with its claws, knocking the stars out of her hands. It lunged again, but she feinted to one side and darted across the clearing. It was only a moment before Anna heard the werewolf recover and hurl itself after her. She tried to force her legs to move faster; if she could reach the snow-covered undergrowth she might be able to hide there and evade the wolf, but the panting breath was close behind her now. She gathered herself to dive into the bushes, but the wolf's great claw simply batted her aside, and she slammed hard into a tree- trunk.

Stars danced in front of her eyes and there were sharp, shooting pains in her right leg; she realised that she must have landed on it. Then the wolf was upon her and hoisting her into the air. With one hand it held her still and with the other grabbed a handful of her hair, yanking it back to bare her throat for the bite that would finish her. Trembling, Anna gathered the last of her strength and ripped the dagger from her belt, plunging it deep into the monster's chest.

Instantly the werewolf released her and sank to its knees, clawing desperately at the dagger, but the poison was already doing its work, and in a moment it collapsed in the snow and lay still. She watched from where she had fallen, panting, while it began to ripple and shrink, layers of fur tearing from its body to reveal a human's skin beneath, then a man and not a wolf lay there, her knife protruding from its chest. His hair was unkempt and dishevelled, and his clothing was merely rags, but he looked to be about her father's age. Leaning closer, Anna recognised him as one of the village men who had not returned from a hunt several years back.

She lay still in the snow while she tried to regain her breath, then grasping at a nearby tree-branch she hauled herself to her feet. The movement made her injured leg throb again, she looked down at it and gulped; it was swollen and misshapen – most definitely broken. She forced herself to ignore it and staggered over to where the man lay; her dagger was still embedded deep in his chest. When Anna reached him she grasped the hilt firmly and gave it a sharp tug, but her foot slipped and she lost her balance, tumbling into the wet snow. Sharp pains shot through her leg as it was crushed beneath her, and she was sure that she heard a cracking sound. She lay exhausted for several minutes until she began shivering with the cold. Powdery snow now caked her clothing, which, soaked as it was, did little to abate the cold and she shuddered as she recalled her father's warnings. Sometimes those who had been caught outside in snowstorms and had been found, days later, frozen where they had fallen. She could not remain here.

After stowing the knife in her belt and gritting her teeth, Anna dragged herself up again. The pain in her leg had eased to a dull throb, and by grasping the stems of several nearby shrubs she could hobble forwards and out of the clearing. The snow beneath her feet was soft, and several times she was tempted to lie down, but remembering her father's stories she forced herself to keep moving. There were howls from somewhere far off, and she glanced nervously into the sky; the moon had almost set, and she realised that those werewolves left in the forest were now withdrawing to Dracula's lair.

By the time she reached the path at the edge of the clearing she was trembling violently and her teeth chattered together no matter how hard she tried to stop them. Inside her sodden gloves her fingers were beginning to numb; making it harder and harder to clutch at the branches. Her good leg was growing weaker with every step she took and she wondered how much longer it would last. She had managed to haul herself a little way along the path, and had reached for another stem, only to find that she could not grip it. She sank down against a tree to rub her hands together, desperate to bring some feeling back into them. Her fingers however remained as stiff and useless as wooden pegs, and when she tried once more to rise her legs buckled beneath her, forcing her back into the snow. She tried again and again to stand, but her legs could not bear her weight. Tears prickled in her eyes as she realised that if she did not move soon she would surely freeze.

"Papa," she cried desperately, "Help me!"

Perhaps they were looking for her even now; surely they would hear her and come. But no answering cry came back to her, only the distant echo of her own voice carried on the wind. She cleared her throat and tried again.

"Papa, Velkan, please!"

There was no answer, but she shouted again and yet again until her throat grew raw, and strained to listen for any answer. Then a sound echoed back to her that froze her voice in her throat; a piercing howl that chilled her to the core. Hopeless tears began to fall, though her cheeks had grown so numb that she could hardly feel them. Her father was not coming, and unless she wanted to attract the interest of the wolves she could not make another sound. To a party as large as the hunt the ordinary wolves which inhabited the forest in the winter time would be no threat, and it was rare that they attacked any villager who was able-bodied enough to run. But she was helpless and utterly alone.

As she sat there her eyelids soon began to grow heavy, and more tears spilled as she struggled to keep them open, even dragging her numbed hands to her face and rubbing at her eyes, but it was useless, she was so sleepy. Her eyes were almost shut when a movement from out of the corner of her eye startled her, and she turned her head towards it. A wolf was standing motionless on the path ahead of her. Anna froze.

It remained still for several moments, watching her with great yellow eyes, then, with a bored yawn began to approach. It was easily the largest wolf that Anna had ever seen, but it moved with easy, languid movements, its great paws throwing up puffs of powdery snow. It paused when it was still several feet from her and gave a warning growl, and Anna felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise. She wondered whether it would kill her immediately, or play with her a while before it finished her. Staring at the sharp canines protruding from its mouth, she realised that she wished for death now.

It came several steps nearer and surveyed her with its head on one side, its great yellow eyes running over her body and lingering over her injured leg. Upon closer inspection of the creature's eyes, Anna gasped, noticing that, though, its eyes were bright and yellow as with any other wolf, these were glimmering with terrible intelligence; cold, ancient and evil. The longer Anna stared, the harder she found it to tear her gaze away.

Eventually the wolf broke their contact, and bowing its head closed its jaws around her arm. Anna whimpered, expecting that at any moment its teeth would sink into her skin, but instead it tugged at her, jerking her from her place and onto her feet. Her legs would not hold her, and she tumbled to the ground. The wolf released her arm, and Anna remained still; waiting for it to finish her, but it bent and grabbed the sleeve of her jacket. It turned to the trees at the side of the path and began to pad towards them, dragging her along beside it. Anna half-heartedly tried to tug her sleeve loose, but the wolf's grip was far too strong, and it did not even spare her struggles a glance. Defeated, she lay still.

The wolf was taking her away from the main path and into the thicker trees, where she supposed the rest of its pack were waiting. She was sure it meant to kill her, but through the cold and her own exhaustion she couldn't bring herself to care. Her sleepiness, held off for a few minutes by the appearance of the wolf, soon returned and this time she did not fight it; for if she slept she would not feel a thing when it finally gave her the death-bite. The wolf paused when she relaxed in its grip, seeming to sense her exhaustion, and only dragged her a little way further before it released her and padded away. Too tired to move Anna simply lay where she had been left; expecting that the wolf had gone to warn the rest of the pack of where its prize lay.

She was surprised when it reappeared after a few moments and took her sleeve in its jaws once more. It was dragging her towards a cluster of nearby fir trees, the branches trembling as though they had been disturbed. The wolf shoved its way between two of the trees when they reached them, and she squeezed her eyes shut as she was forced to follow. Twigs snagged at her face and clothes, and then they emerged in a tiny stretch of ground, sheltered between the firs. In the centre the wolf had hollowed out a circular den in the snow with its powerful paws. It dragged her bodily into this, depositing her when they reached its far edge.

Anna was too numb now to turn and face the wolf. She would sleep here then, for though she knew her clothes and skin were soaked she could no longer feel the cold; the snow beneath her seemed as soft as a down coverlet. Her eyes had drifted closed again when she felt the hot, rank breath of the wolf on her face. A rough tongue licked her cheek, and Anna frowned, wondering what it could be about. The wolf licked again and again, melting the ice glaze her tears had formed from her face and forcing sensation back with its chafing. Then it worried at her sleeve again, and when she did not respond it gave it a sharp tug. Her jacket tore but it had succeeded in shifting her so she faced it. Anna heard it give what seemed to be a satisfied yawn, then lie down beside her. It tugged her closer so that her legs were tucked against its belly and her head lay against its chest. The wolf's body gave off great heat, and Anna found herself huddling against it despite her fear. She slipped her fingers tentatively into the thick fur on its chest, reaching through the course guard hairs to the softer white fur underneath. The wolf remained motionless, and as she lay there, sheltered by its powerful body, her terror began to melt away; replaced by a sleepiness that, warmer now, she knew she could wake from. Her final thought before she finally drifted off was that the wolf's chest, pressed close against her, did not rise and fall, and no pulse pounded beneath her fingers.

.:I:.

It seemed hours later when Anna finally awoke, still curled tightly against the wolf. She stirred a little, trying to sit up, but her limbs would not yet move far and she was obliged to lie still. The wolf seemed to sense the change in her, for it untangled itself from her and stood. Anna fell back into the snow and tried to open her eyes, but her tears from earlier had frozen and her face had become an icy mask.

The snow creaked as the wolf's great paws pressed into it; but it was moving away from her and back between the fir trees. Anna heard it pause just outside their protective circle, then howl again and again. She was almost sure that somewhere in the returning echoes of the sound that she could hear distant voices.

Anna shivered in the snow as she waited for the howls to end and for the wolf to return; now that her flesh was no longer numb the cold from the snow beneath her was penetrating and seeped through her wet clothing. Why did it not come back? She would surely have frozen where she sat last night if the wolf had not brought her to shelter. She strained to listen; there were the normal forest sounds of birds and other small animals; but nothing of the wolf's heavy footfalls. Anna felt hot tears slide down her frozen cheeks, melting the ice from around her eyes, and after struggling for a few moments she managed to force them open. She was still lying in the little den that the wolf had carved. More snow had fallen since she slept; her clothes were covered in it, but the sky was clear, and late morning sunlight streamed into the clearing. There was no sign of the wolf. Anna began to sob quietly; she was shivering violently again and her teeth were chattering, yet her limbs would still barely move; she couldn't even sit up and out of the snow. Without the wolf she would die, she was surely dying already; why wouldn't it come?

A voice beside her nearly made her start out of her skin.

"You have been a fool, girl." it hissed, its tone cold and mocking.

Anna turned wildly towards it and came face to face with a tall man who stood leaning over her. She had heard no-one enter the clearing.

"If I am ever called upon to do something like that again I will not bother," he continued in a deep, casual drawl. Anna stared at him; she knew everyone in the village by sight, yet she did not recognise this man, and it was not often that they saw strangers in the village. He was dressed all in black, but his clothes were in a formal style Anna had never seen before, covered by a long dress coat. He looked to be about thirty, and his features were striking, with pronounced cheekbones and inky black hair that was held back in a silver clip. His eyes were the strangest thing about him though; a deep blue that glimmered with the same wise, but cold evil the wolf's had.

Anna shook her head in confusion; she must be dreaming this, and at any moment she would wake, still curled up with the wolf. Icy breath drifted across her cheek as the man chuckled. "Ah, no Princess," he said, "allow me to assure you that this is no dream." He had spoken as though he had watched her last night, had helped her - and now he could hear her thoughts as well? Tears sprang to her eyes as she tried to force some sense out of the matter. The man's face softened a little when he saw this, and when he next spoke his tone was gentler.

"Do not fret child, you may be a little fool but you have certainly proved yourself to be a brave one." He gave a small smile and continued "However, I must warn you that such behaviour will not serve when you are my bride."

"Bride?" Anna managed to croak.

"Of course my dear," he said, "you are strong, and I can tell you will soon be beautiful – just the qualities I am looking for." Anna shook her head again and struggled to sit up, but her limbs would still barely obey her and she fell back in the snow, shivering harder. Frustrated tears pooled in her eyes and spilled over her cheeks at her weakness. The man sighed and knelt beside her in the snow.

"Now now, don't cry," he murmured, and stroked her tousled hair as though to calm her, "it will be alright – see, your family comes for you." He peered through the protective circle of fir trees as though he had seen something between them, and Anna's gaze followed, though she could see and hear nothing. The man looked back down at her and brushed the remnants of her tears away, then touched his fingers lightly to her brow. Anna gasped and tried to pull away; it seemed to her that black tendrils were snaking into her mind from his fingers, but he cupped her chin in his other hand and held her firmly. After a moment she stopped struggling and relaxed in his hold; her head had filled with a peaceful, suffocating shroud that quieted her thoughts and made her lie still. After a few moments the man removed his hand, ending the blissful numbness. Anna blinked several times and shook her head to clear it; her mind was as confused as if she had woken from a long sleep. Eventually she raised her eyes to meet the man's, which seemed to satisfy him, and he released her chin, but then bent his head to whisper in her ear.

"You cannot now speak of this little escapade to anyone, so do not even bother to try. Remember my dear, in a few short years I will come for you, and we shall make a lovely couple."

He stood then and turned away from her to slip between the branches of the firs and out of the clearing. Anna listened for his footsteps on the path, but instead heard an odd, snapping sound like the beating of wings, then a flurry of snow being disturbed from the nearby trees, but the ring of firs blocked her view, and the sound soon faded as it travelled away from her. She strained to listen once more, and it seemed to her that there were voices coming from the path. A few more moments, and she thought she could hear someone calling her name. She hardly dared to breathe as the sound came closer.

"The howls came from here father, I'm sure of it." That was Velkan! Clearing her throat Anna managed to cry out.

"Velkan! I'm here," she called, and her father and brother were suddenly bursting between the trees.

"Anna!" Boris threw himself across the clearing and gathered her in his arms, "I thought we had lost you."

"Are you hurt Anna, did it bite you?" Velkan was leaning over her, and Anna was shocked at the haggard concern on his face. Both he and her father looked as though they had not slept; she supposed they must have been out looking for her all night. Others forced themselves between the firs, and Anna recognised members of last night's hunt. One held a flask out to her father, who took it wordlessly and put it to her lips. Her throat burned when she took a sip; it was brandy, but her father smiled encouragingly at her, and after a few more tentative sips strength and warmth began to return to her.

Boris looked her over and noticed her swollen right leg. He ran his fingers carefully along the break, and Anna had to suppress a whimper of pain. "It is not too serious," he said after a moment, "it should heal cleanly enough." He smiled, and something like a teasing glint appeared in his eye, "but you have to expect something like that when you've killed your first werewolf." Velkan grinned and took her hand.

"We spent so long suppressing that other wolf that we didn't realise you were gone until it was too late," he explained, "then by the time it was dead the snow had covered most of its tracks and we lost your trail. I was afraid we'd be too late -," her brother broke off and turned his face away, and Anna was shocked to see that he was choking back tears. She gave his hand a brief, comforting squeeze – it had been years since she had seen her brother cry.

"As your brother says, we lost your trail," Boris continued. He tugged her sodden gloves from her fingers and took her hands between his own, chafing them to get the blood flowing again. "We were searching the forest for you most of the night, but we didn't make any headway until it was light and we found the body of the werewolf you killed." The numbness was leaving Anna's fingers as Boris rubbed them. She cried out as the blood flowed through them again; it burned like fire. Her father gave a sympathetic smile. "We looked for more tracks leading from the clearing but there were none, and we did not know where to look for you. We were about to start our search again when we heard a wolf howling – it sounded as though it had found something. We followed the noise and it led us right here – you were lucky we found you before it did."

Velkan had crossed over to the little hollow in the snow that the wolf had carved.

"I don't know how you thought of this Anna but it probably saved your life," he said with a slight tone of admiration.

"But-," Anna began, "it was the wolf who saved me, it stayed with me last night to stop me from freezing, and then the man came, he -" Anna tongue suddenly froze in her mouth. Her eyes widened in shock as she tried again to speak, but her tongue remained lifeless and she could not make a sound. Her father and brother looked down at her in confusion.

"What do you mean Anna?" Velkan said, "Any wolf that found you would have killed you – surely you know that?"

"What man?" Boris said, and Anna noticed that his face had once again turned grave. One of the hunt stepped forward.

"My lord, the Princess is crazed with the cold and half-frozen – no wonder she is confused – she must have been dreaming."

"Yes, of course" Boris agreed, and Anna was shocked as relief showed in his face. She wanted to ask what she had said that had bothered him so, and it was only when she thought of saying something else that her tongue unfroze and was her own again. It seemed that the man had made good his threat.

"Father what -," she was about to ask but Boris cut her off.

"Hush now," he murmured.

Someone brought over a heavy, fur-lined cloak, which her father wrapped tightly around her, and after giving her another swallow of the brandy lifted her into his arms. "You did well my dear," he whispered as the remainder of the villagers began to file out of the clearing. "There are not many who could take on a fully-grown werewolf alone and live to tell the tale." Anna's heart swelled with pride as he kissed her gently on the forehead and carried her from the clearing. On the path stood several other members of the hunt who had been part of the search party. Anna was shocked at the looks of relief that appeared on their faces as her father carried her into view. He smiled broadly at them as they left the firs behind and began to head back onto the main forest path. Anna snuggled deeper into the cloak's warmth and closed her eyes; the brandy was starting to take effect and she felt sleepy.

"That's it Anna," her father said, "rest now, you've done enough fighting for one day."

* * *

**So, there we are...I hope you enjoyed that and please do leave me feedback for this as I really want to know what you thought! **

***Puppy-eyes***

**Future works: I am currently working on a story several chapters long that is set in the time before Dracula became a vampire, which, with any luck should be posted within a few weeks. I am considering doing some sort of continuation of Cry Wolf but that really depends on what people think. Thank you for reading!**


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